


friends with georgenotfound (maybe he should've done more)

by thesisean (orphan_account)



Series: the change and comfort we all seek [4]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Family Dynamics, Fluff and Angst, Gen, dream is a carpenter, george is a writer, idfk, read the prev parts im on my knees rn, tommy is confused as fuck, wilbur knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:09:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27149203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/thesisean
Summary: 2:31PMgeorge404: hbdgeorge404: ur old nownot old enough to be a man LOLtommyinnit: I am still taller than you Big ManI can actually Punt you youre so shortI am expecting a Present from you(tommy wishes he could do more, wishes wilbur would tell himsomething.)
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, GeorgeNotFound & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: the change and comfort we all seek [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1968274
Comments: 19
Kudos: 196





	friends with georgenotfound (maybe he should've done more)

tommy is one man. 

tommy is one simple man. he hears the word _child_ , he attacks and bites back. even if it’s the truth.

“do _not_ call me child, georgenotfound.” tommy sighs, rocks lightly on the plush chair of the café. he regrets asking him ever to go out for a cuppa. he hears it way too much already from his sworn brothers and his self-promoted father. 

“but you are a child, tommy,” george quips quietly, lacing his fingers together, running his eyes over the receipt wedged under an empty cup. tommy rolls his eyes, tugs on his gloves. it’s really cold outside. 

tommy lays his eyes onto george and feels only one thing.

pity. mostly pity, ‘cause guilt and grief for the pair george lost gets buried under the pouring load of empathy. he’s too awkward with these emotions, because it’s like yesterday he’d roleplayed with the man who’s often associated with a blank and simple colon bracket, and the tired talks he occasionally has with the other younger boy who refuses teasingly to be his friend. it’s simply so _weird_ , two people he’d considered friends disappearing permanently oh so suddenly from his life. 

he can’t imagine losing wilbur, or phil, or even techno. of course, especially tubbo. 

george hums politely to pull him back from his thoughts. he gives a awkward smile, because he actually isn’t as rude as his three hundred average viewers think he is. 

“so, georgenotfound, how are you doing?” tommy says offhandedly. 

george flinches just the tiniest bit so that he almost misses it, but he does catch the smallest dip in his shoulders. george looks away. 

“’orry.” tommy mutters, slightly embarrassed by the slip-up. of _course_ he isn’t fine, _tommy_ , he’s just had his best friends die a week ago. 

“it’s fine.” george inhales quietly, pushing idly with the small spoon he twists around to stir the earl grey tea that sits in his teacup. “i still kinda can talk to them.” tommy blinks. george half-smiles to himself. 

“w-what?” tommy manages to sputter out after a bit. “georgenotfound, are you off your _rocker?_ finally lost it?” 

“no,” george says wistfully after he appears to actually think about the question. 

tommy just blinks rapidly in succession at the man who is allegedly eight years older than himself. _he’s definitely off his rocker._

george seems oddly distracted by nothing in particular, the smallest laugh escaping his lips as he locks eyes on the tea. tommy’s confusion grows tenfold as he grips the cup in his hands in disbelief. 

“are you really _okay_ , george?” he says with a lilt to his voice to emphasise how crazy george seems to him at the moment. 

“huh?” george says like he’s distracted, then he looks at tommy with a lift to the corners of his lips. 

tommy laughs explosively to dispel how awkward and strange this situation is, pushing his eyes larger. “this is so fuckin’ _strange_ , georgenotfound. you’re acting like you’re seeing fuckin’ ghosts or something!” 

george laughs that laugh. “whoa, what makes you think _that?”_

tommy frowns even more. 

george giggles a little, then pulls the cup up to tilt some tea into his parted lips. 

there’s a period of silence, comfortable for george and the exact opposite for tommy, as george sips slowly. 

_maybe it’s just the trauma,_ he thinks (not worriedly obviously), as he glances over to george’s lightly closed eyes. _i would see the shadows of my late friends too if they died, if i were him._

george hums happily and tommy thinks that he should leave him be, as long as he’s happy. 

-

tommy asks wilbur once he gets home from the small trip he has with george, after walking a little through the evening streets together. 

he asks if george is crazy because he’s started to talk to the air.

wilbur pushes tommy lightly away with a specific look he can’t define. he tells him that george isn’t crazy. says it with conviction, even when he hasn’t even seen george in first person. says he’s fine. 

tommy’s not sure, but he daren’t refute wilbur’s strong and determined dark eyes. 

-

tommy texts george on discord. george tells him that he’s fine. tommy doesn’t send another message to confirm, takes his word on it.

-

the next time tommy sees george is months later. george seems tired. there’s bags under his eyes and his irises seem so much darker than before. he’s closed the windows to his soul. 

“you okay, big man?” tommy asks, not actually expecting a reply. 

george smiles, but there’s a small crease between his eyebrows and a distinct look in his eyes. “they’re gone.” 

tommy knows better than to ask who. 

-

he’s turning seventeen soon. a year closer to manhood, when he’ll stop being called ‘child’. he’ll be able to chase his dreams of being a popular streamer, maybe— maybe even getting a thousand viewers one day, if he’s lucky. he doesn’t quite want fame, he’s seen it absolutely destroy creators he looked up to. 

he wants the simple joy he gets from interacting with his friends, with makeshift family, when wilbur, who doesn’t even have a twitch account, appears and roasts the hell out of his embarrassed ass, or when he calls phil to make the smallest decisions on the dream smp (or his smp now), whose ownership had changed hands from the late carpenter to the loud boy. or maybe even techno, who blesses his stream with his monotone and his sarcastic humour that has withstood the test of time. 

his viewers simply love his bantering with tubbo. they _‘aww’_ when he begrudgingly tells him that _you’re not so bad,_ and when tubbo laughs that lowercased laugh everyone has grown to love. they affectionately bestow the name ‘tubbox’ onto his best friend. he likes this life, roleplaying still with fundy and eret, whether offline or online, or vibing with big q, who never streams the smp any longer after he’d moved on to other games. 

george never comes on anymore. tommy understands, even if he’s missed teasing and bullying the older man for being colourblind. he’s still british, after all. even if he lives in america now. and he’s a friend. frankly, tommy doesn’t even know if george plays the game at all anymore.

george hasn’t visited britain in forever. tommy’s not allowed to travel alone to america. wilbur goes to america to visit on his behalf. tommy doesn’t manage to get a single word out of the older man when he does get back; only half-hearted stares and rough hands that push him away. he wonders what he and george talked about. he yells to try to assert dominance. wilbur yells back. they don’t speak for a week, until philza hastily brings them both out to lunch to force them to interact. tommy apologises for forcing himself upon wilbur. wilbur mutters that he’s sorry for the secrecy. 

wilbur still doesn’t tell him what happened on the trip. he gives up, lets him be. 

_strange,_ he thinks, in vc 2 with purpled and bad, muted, _strange how the world works_. bringing four very different individuals together. bridging the physical gap between him and tubbo emotionally. laughing with everyone he’s known on the smp. he sometimes thinks that dream and sapnap should be here for the glory. 

the smp is slightly older than a year. he’s proud of the progress everyone has made on the smp. 

(wilbur tells him that he’s the most responsible kid he’s ever seen and that he’s proud of him and tubbo)

_what ghosts,_ the words echo in his head as he pivots his mouse around to escape the burning arrows fired by ant, _there’s actual solid people here, my friends, and they’re all here with me. walking with me as we grow older. helping each other get back on our feet._

_i think that’s enough for me._

(he glances back and sees the shadow of a man, the glint of the circular tinted glasses gone in a flash, the colourblind glasses stowed and locked in the drawer of a room. he sees a man push himself out of the room, lock the door, and throw the key out the window. he wishes he can do _more_.)

-

it’s his birthday. george doesn’t reply to his birthday tweet. he instead sends a private discord dm. 

_2:31PM_

george404: hbd

george404: ur old now

not old enough to be a man LOL

  
tommyinnit: I am still taller than you Big Man

I can actually Punt you youre so short

I am expecting a Present from you

george404: im not. financially stable rn i dont think i have the funds :[

nxt yr? it’s a bigger milestone 

  
tommyinnit: Whatever, GeorgeNotFound

Whatever floats your boat

_2:43PM_

  
tommyinnit: You’re ok?

george404: whoa caring abt me on ur bday?? honoured

tommyinnit: Youre oh so Annoying GeorgeNotFound

george404: ill take it as a complement

_4:28AM_

george404: ill be moving off the internet

just thought u shld know

idk

its probably past ur bedtime but i cant sleep ive nvr been able to sleep properly for ages

i hope u and ur family r ok

tell wilbur that he doesn’t need to come anymore and waste his money on airplane fees im alright on my own. ive still got bad

yeah ig this is it

thanks sm tommy ur a good person

dream always admired u, thought u shld know

goodbye tommyinnit

maybe ill see u one day if i ever go back to britain

-

(tommy receives a mirror of all things on his eighteenth birthday. the post-it note stuck to the back reads with elegant writing and slanted strokes ‘i promised. -gnf’ etched in black marker. he traces his face in the reflective surface, watches as his fingerprints smudge up its clear surface, takes the resolution to a dip behind the untidy coat of his fingers’ natural oil.)

(he thinks after all this time he’s still Friends With GeorgeNotFound.)


End file.
